


Rightly King

by cloudtopcruise



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 13:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20154673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudtopcruise/pseuds/cloudtopcruise
Summary: Robin finds Chrom's new royal attire fascinating.





	Rightly King

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god I promised this fic in 2015. I can't even say it took 4 years to write it because it's been done for ages I've just been too self-conscious to post it. Also this was based on a drawing Kozaki posted on Twitter..............Mr. Kozaki I'm so sorry
> 
> edit: I changed this fic's title because I couldn't stop reading it to the tune of "like a virgin"

Of all the new things Robin’s returned to, Chrom’s new formalwear is an odd thing for him to fixate on. Chrom can only recall wearing them once since his return, and can’t even remember what the occasion was, but Robin brings it up to him one day with sincere determination in his eyes. Perhaps it really speaks to his affection for Robin that Chrom is willing to play dress-up and sneak into the throne room with him, for the sole purpose of having Robin...look at him from various angles, it seems.

Robin circles the throne, his footsteps echoing throughout the grand and empty space. Chrom rests his cheek on one hand and taps the fingers of the other against the throne’s arm as he watches him, only curiosity as to Robin’s intentions keeping him from becoming _too_ impatient.

When Robin approaches and leans down to toy with the fur of his cape, Chrom clears his throat and decides to speak up. “...What are you doing, exactly?”

“Hmm? Just inspecting,” Robin says. He takes a few steps back before standing still and looking Chrom up and down once again. “It’s funny, you almost look like a real king.”

Chrom frowns. “I am a real king.”

Robin shrugs, turns, and begins walking toward the door. “I suppose so.”

“You _suppose_?”

“From the day we met, I never thought you seemed much of the noble sort,” Robin says, raising his voice to be heard as he walks away. “And you never proved yourself to be as such in the years following that, so I doubt much has changed in my absence.”

Chrom can’t honestly claim to have been an ideal leader while Robin was gone. All his thoughts and efforts had been put into trying to find Robin again, with many other responsibilities of leading a country frequently falling to his subordinates. _Still_, that shortcoming of his isn’t the one Robin chose to mention, so Chrom can bring himself to argue. “You were gone for quite a while,” he says. “A lot can change in that amount of time, you know.”

Robin pauses in front of the door and glances over his shoulder. “I’m sure they can, Your Highness,” he says with a cheeky grin.

Chrom doesn’t take the teasing to heart. With Robin, there’s always a hint of affection behind his words. But that doesn’t mean Chrom isn’t going to tease him right back.

He clears his throat and says, “Robin” in the most commanding tone he can muster. Robin turns around to face him, though he still has a grin on his face. “...Come here.”

Robin starts at that, not expecting him to say anything roughly, Chrom assumes. His smile starts to drop a bit, but not so much that he can’t get in another quip. “If that’s what my lord wants,” he says before taking a step forward. Chrom holds up his hand to pause him.

“...On your knees.”

Robin tenses somewhat, eyes widening and grin fading further as his amusement shifts into surprise. Chrom wonders if he’s taken the joke too far, and is about to inform Robin that he wasn’t being serious, but his words die in his throat when Robin actually lowers himself down to the floor.

Chrom can’t help but feel thrown; he’s not used to Robin doing what he says. But now, here he was, moving forward on his hands and knees as asked. Robin’s surprise fades too as he approaches Chrom, instead giving Chrom an unexpectedly heated look. It’s so _much_ that whatever Chrom had intended to say becomes lost entirely.

The path from the door to the throne is already long, but as he watches Robin move, it feels even longer than the length of the room should allow. He feels transfixed, watching him, a sense that only quiets somewhat when Robin comes to a stop at his feet and looks up at him. It’s not exactly an unusual position for the two of them, but it still isn’t quite the same. Chrom feels a sense of power over Robin here that he’s never felt before. He isn’t entirely sure what to do with it.

He must sit gaping at Robin for longer than he realizes, because Robin speaks up to get his attention. “Chrom…” he says softly, giving him a searching look.

Chrom feels as though there is something specific he should do here, but his mind is too hazy for him to take the time to work it out, especially while Robin is waiting for him. Instead, he lets himself move on instinct.

He reaches his hand out (Robin immediately sits up straighter) and rests it against Robin’s cheek, a touch that Robin leans in to. Tilting Robin’s head up, he strokes along his jaw lightly with his thumb. “Robin…” Chrom shifts his thumb to rub against Robin’s lower lip as he speaks, and can’t help but feel affected by the way he can tell Robin’s breathing picks up. “...What do you want to do?”

“I…” Robin looks toward the walls to break eye contact. Chrom continues to stare hard at him. “I want…”

Robin has never been much for speaking when it came to these situations, so Chrom isn’t surprised when, instead of finishing his sentence, he reaches out to touch his palm to the front of Chrom’s pants and continues to avoid looking at him. 

Chrom has always found Robin’s shyness to be kind of sweet, really, but their position makes him feel like he can do more. He wants to push Robin a little.

He grabs Robin’s wrist and pulls it to the side. “Use words, Robin,” Chrom says. He speaks gently, but it’s still clear that he means it as a command. “And look at me when you speak.”

Robin takes a deep breath as he turns his gaze back to Chrom. “I...I want to please you….” he says, voice only just audible.

Chrom chuckles a bit. “You speak so...politely.”

On any other day, that likely would have earned him an indignant pout from Robin. But now, there’s a hint of shame on Robin’s face that Chrom can’t help but savor. “I’m...sorry,” he says. “But may I…?”

Chrom doesn’t answer right away, letting moments pass as though it were legitimately something he needed to think about. He waits until Robin begins to squirm impatiently before he finally drops Robin’s wrist and responds, “You may.”

“T-Thank you.” Robin breaks eye contact again, now looking down between Chrom’s legs. He moves very slowly as he pulls out Chrom’s cock, almost to the point that Chrom wants to tell him to speed up. Chrom can imagine a typical reaction of Robin’s here: bringing up how quickly Chrom had gotten hard, either finding Chrom’s enthusiasm amusing or baffling. Instead, he takes Chrom’s cock in his hand without comment.

Chrom sighs at the first touch, absently petting Robin’s face as he works. Robin again leans into Chrom’s hand as his eyes dart around the room, not sure where he should rest his gaze.

Chrom has never been able to keep himself still in moments like these, and his hips roll repeatedly up into Robin’s grip. Unable to make his own rhythm, Robin forgoes attempting anything meticulous or with a sense of technique, only attempting to speed up his pumps to keep with Chrom’s pace.

It isn’t too long before Robin takes his own initiative, placing a hand on Chrom’s hips to pause him. Once Chrom’s been sufficiently slowed, he leans forward to take the tip of Chrom’s cock between his lips. 

Chrom’s always loved the feel of Robin’s mouth, but he sees another opportunity. With his grip on Robin’s face, he tilts his head back again. “I don’t remember giving you permission to do that.”

Robin blinks up at him, caught off guard. “May I...?” he asks hesitantly.

“May you what?”

“May I please you with my mouth…?” The words come out more easily than they did in his previous request, and it’s a testament to how much Robin really wants this. Chrom wants to see how far it can go. 

“Tell me how much you want it.”

Robin is quiet for a few seconds, chewing at his lower lip as he tries to steel himself to keep speaking. “Please…?”

“I don’t feel very convinced,” Chrom says, an uneven grin crossing his face.

“Chrom, just let me…” His hand, previously still, begins moving again, making small, soft strokes. Chrom can tell that once again, Robin is replacing words with actions to get what he wants. But he doesn’t let himself be tempted.

He grabs both of Robin’s wrists and tugs hard on them, pulling him up onto his lap. He takes a moment to admire Robin’s stunned expression before leaning in to nip at his ear. “If you don’t want to say it, you can go ahead and leave…”

“N-No, I—” Chrom grins a little at how immediate the words are, and at how quickly Robin tries to rein them back in. “Gods, Chrom…”

Chrom leans back again to watch him. “You don’t want me to know how dirty you are?” he guesses. He lets his hand wander down the front of Robin’s pants to feel the hardness underneath. Robin moans and presses into him. “If that’s the case, you’re much too late.”

“Please…” Robin looks at him so _desperately_, and it’s almost enough to make Chrom give him what he wants right then.

Chrom squeezes Robin once before sliding his hand down to his thigh. “I’m waiting, Robin.”

“Please, Chrom, I really...I really need…” Robin can’t manage to hold eye-contact as he finally says the words. “I want to suck your c-cock, Chrom…”

Chrom is a little impressed that Robin actually managed to say it. It’s very nice, he learns, to hear crude words come from Robin’s normally soft-spoken lips. “Say it again, Robin.”

Robin whines and rolls his hips down. “Chrom...please let me suck your cock, Chrom, _please_…”

Chrom places his hands on Robin’s shoulders to help push him back down onto the floor. “Go on, then.”

“Thank you...” Robin moves back into his position between Chrom’s legs like he’s meant to be, and he doesn’t bother with carefully slow movements as he leans in to press his lips against the shaft. He runs his tongue up along the side until he reaches the tip, and takes it into his mouth with a tiny moan that Chrom just barely manages to hear.

“Cute,” Chrom says, voice breathy. Robin glances up at him with eyes meant to say that he certainly is _not_, but the look only serves to affirm how much he _is_. Chrom lets his hands slide up Robin’s neck to his head, his fingers gripping in Robin’s hair. He doesn’t need to guide Robin forward any, as Robin slides his length deep into his mouth without prompting. Chrom groans as Robin licks and sucks around him, occasionally rolling his hips and murmuring words of encouragement.

Robin’s rhythm falters a bit and Chrom pulls his gaze away from his face to see why. He’s using his free hand to undo his belts, a clumsy and slow process when he only has use of his non-dominant hand. When he finally manages to get them undone, they drop down onto the floor and Robin pushes his hand into his smallclothes. Even underneath layers of cloth, Chrom can see Robin’s movements as he touches himself. Chrom takes a moment to enjoy the image before he pulls Robin off of him again. “What are you doing, Robin?”

Robin’s hand stills, and he looks hesitantly up at Chrom. “I’m...I’m sorry, I just…feel really…”

“Hmm…” Chrom pulls Robin’s head closer again, letting the tip of his cock rub against the corner of Robin’s mouth without pushing in completely. “You can spare a little patience. We’re focusing on me right now.”

“R-Right…” Chrom can feel Robin’s breath against his length with his words. Reluctantly, Robin pulls his hand out of his smallclothes and places it atop Chrom’s knee.

“If you’re good, I’ll get you off myself later.” Robin’s eyes light up at that, but Chrom pushes back into his mouth before he can offer a response. Robin seems to pick up his efforts then, moving his hand and mouth much more frantically than before.

When Chrom loses himself in the heat of the moment, he has a tendency to get rough. Robin’s long gotten used to this, so when Chrom’s fist clenches tight in his hair, he takes his hand off of Chrom’s length and lets it drop to his lap. Chrom starts to thrust into Robin’s mouth, using his grip on his hair to pull him in close. Amidst wet, sloppy noises, Chrom can hear Robin moaning around him, and it encourages him to thrust harder.

As Chrom feels himself at the edge, he pulls Robin off of him again and takes himself in his hand. Robin stays obediently still as Chrom’s release pours over him, cum dripping down his nose and cheeks, but too sticky to slide any further past his chin.

After Chrom’s finished, Robin leans his head on Chrom’s knee and looks up at him, breathing heavy and eyes lidded. “Was I...was I good…?”

Chrom smiles down at him fondly and runs his fingers gently through his hair. “You were good.” He turns Robin around before pulling him back up onto his lap, Robin’s back pressing up against his chest. Chrom pulls Robin’s pants and smallclothes down enough that he can see him. He merely explores him at first, letting his fingers rub over the tip and lightly runs them against the side. Delicious whimpers come from Robin as he pushes his hips up, begging for more with his movements.

Chrom leans in and presses a kiss to the shell of Robin’s ear before finally gripping him. “You were very good.” Robin moans as he makes an upward stroke, shuddering and clinging to Chrom’s sleeves to anchor himself. Chrom pumps him with his thick gloves still on, but soon lets go of Robin to pull a glove off. He discards it on the floor beside the throne before he returns his hand to Robin’s length, and feels the warmth and slickness against his own skin.

There’s a quirk of the Ylissean throne room that Chrom’s always known of, but that hasn’t been in the forefront of his mind until now. The ceilings are quite high, as would be expected of a throne room, and reach up to the next floor of the castle. The halls of the floor above can be seen through windows; fine for anyone who might want to look down upon an event, but not as much for one seeking privacy within. And of course, why would anyone?

Chrom cups Robin’s chin with his free hand, tilting his gaze to the upper floor. “What do you suppose would happen,” Chrom murmurs against Robin’s ear, “if someone were to walk by right now?” Robin replies with only a wordless whine.

“I think it’d be nice, to show everyone how I can make you feel,” Chrom muses. “I don’t think anyone would ever expect the serious little tactician to act like such a whore.”

“I’m n— aaaahh, mmm…” If he was going to make a denial, Robin doesn’t seem to be committed to following it through.

Chrom chuckles as Robin’s hips jump under his hand. “I’d love to take you right now, but you probably couldn’t hold out long enough for that,” he says. “You’re going to come soon, aren’t you?”

Robin gasps, his head falling back onto Chrom’s shoulder. “Gods, Chrom, yes...”

“Then come.”

Robin chokes out Chrom’s name, the word dissolving into meaningless moans along the way. His hips twitch under Chrom’s grip and he comes white and hot, spurting out over Chrom’s hand. Chrom continues to stroke him until he comes back down from it, breathing evening out and resting his head lightly against Chrom’s shoulder.

Robin turns himself around, curling up on Chrom’s lap and resting his head against Chrom’s chest. Before wrapping his arms around him, Chrom takes a moment to wipe his hand with his other glove and drop it to the side with its pair.

After a few moments of quiet interspersed with heavy breathing, Chrom begins to chuckle. Robin glances up at him. “What is it?”

“I’m just...surprised how easily you went along with that,” Chrom says. “It’s almost like I’m a real king.”

Robin blushes and pouts at him. “You _are_ a real king.”

Chrom reaches up to ruffle Robin’s already quite disheveled hair. “I know, but it’s nice to hear you admit it,” he says. Already, Chrom’s beginning to feel embarrassed at how _bold_ his thoughts had gotten, so he focuses instead on committing Robin’s reactions to memory. “We should do this again sometime. I like it when you actually listen to me.”

Chrom recognizes the look on Robin’s face; it’s the same look he gets when he’s deciding whether or not to spend money on market trinkets. “I’ll think about it,” Robin mumbles. “...But it won’t be in here again.”

Chrom gives a mock-pout. “Oh? But being in here was half the fun!”

“So now you want purposely to deface this room?” Chrom just grins at him.

Robin sighs and carefully brings himself to his feet. He fixes his clothes back in order, and after a bit of thought, he pulls his hood over his head to hide his cum-covered face. “Let’s go take a bath,” he says, holding his hand out to Chrom. “Before anyone actually does walk by.”

Chrom takes Robin’s hand and stands up, keeping it in his grip even as they walk out the door. He’s aware that the grin he’s making must look incredibly goofy, but he doesn’t really mind. He’s just glad he has his Robin back.

Even if he doesn’t offer any help when Frederick comes to scold Chrom about the semen-stained glove he found in the throne room.

**Author's Note:**

> I promised this fic when I was a freshman in college what the hell. Writing's hard


End file.
